The Price Of Ascendance

Ark City, a city-ship of mammoth proportions, holds constant vigil over the metropolis of Sallustria. This marvel of technology is the home of Ascension, an organisation who have successfully engineered a procedure that unlocks the full potential of the human brain. All Sallustrian citizens undergo mandatory testing at age 21 to determine their viability and, if they find themselves among the lucky few successful candidates, are permitted access to the floating utopia.

But Liz and Derek, two strangers thrust together on their 21st birthdays, are about to discover that the idyllic paradise comes with a cost, one that Ascension have neglected to publicise. What began as a day of celebration will end in a whirlwind of conspiracies and revelations that threaten to upend the very foundations of Sallustria forever.
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Chapters:

I was facing an imposing wall of stiff-backed, silent
individuals. My hand was clutching the metal railing by my side
with a fierce determination, my knuckles turning white and the
muscles in my arms burning from the strain. Mum stood next to me,
that half stern, half sympathetic look adorning her face.

"C'mon sweetie, you need to let go. It's for the best, you know,"
she pleaded.

I tried to refuse, tried to coax some excuse, some reasoning out
of my mouth but it was glued shut. Every time I tried to speak
some invisible force pushed back, preventing anything but a tiny
squeak from escaping. Frantically, I began hyperventilating, and
Mum took advantage of my distraction to manoeuvre me into the
line that had formed in front of us. I swung my hands furiously,
pointing to my throat, but Mum just smiled and nodded, leading me
forward as if nothing was amiss. I glanced around wildly but the
press of bodies hid everything besides the dark concrete roof and
the metal grating floor beneath our feet. I swept my eyes over
the crowd, trying to find someone I knew, someone who could help
me, someone who wasn't brainwashed like Mum seemed to be. But
every time I tried to look at their faces my vision went haywire,
their features distorting into an indistinct silver blur that I
could not focus on no matter how hard I tried. Even so, I was
inexplicably certain that we were all of the same age. Mum was
the only exception.

Up ahead I could just see a bright light streaming in from
outside. We were approaching the end of the tunnel. As we stepped
out into a sea of shuffling bodies, each and every head craned up
to look upon the monstrosity in front of us. I followed their
gazes, struck frozen and dumb by the obscure shape of the
enormous silver ship docked at the end of the platform. It
resembled a giant medical syringe, with fat engines at the rear,
a long transparent cylinder for its body, and an elongated
proboscis extending from the cockpit. The ship towered above us,
scaled as if to accommodate giants twenty-feet tall. Through the
transparent walls I could see dozens of amorphous blobs rushing
to and fro, occasional sparks of rainbow light bursting into and
out of fleeting existence.

As I gazed in awe at the incredible sight, Mum continued to drag
me along with the rest of the crowd. A large steel gangway
bridged the gap between us and the ship, and we were ushered
upwards by cloaked figures mumbling incoherently under their
breath. I turned once again to Mum, hoping for her to see the
desperation in my eyes and to come to her senses, but she had
disappeared, swallowed whole by the blurred-face crowd. I tried
to retreat but it was like swimming against the waves, an endless
sea of bodies crushing me backwards every step I took. I was
swept along with the current, victim to the will of the masses.
Finally, when there were only a few people left between me and
the top of the gangway, I was able to see above the crest of the
horde, and I managed to locate Mum. She was being escorted from
the edge of the swarm by a pair of the cloaked figures. The trio
stepped onto a small, raised plinth in the corner of the platform
and turned around. I threw my hands into the air and started
waving and jumping furiously, doing everything I could to attract
Mum's attention. I opened my jaw wide and pushed hard, struggling
to force something, anything out of my mouth.

"Rlllggagghh!" I managed to growl.

Mum appeared completely oblivious to my efforts and continued to
smile blankly. As I gestured hopelessly the two figures beside
her sprouted hideous wings, grotesque throbbing veins woven
across a tapestry of sickly translucent skin. One of the
abominations leaned in towards Mum and scooped her into its arms
before launching into the sky, carrying her off so impossibly
fast that in the span of a few seconds all that was left was a
dot in the sky, no bigger than a grain of salt. I stood with my
mouth agape, my hands limp at my side, confusion and horror
battling it out in the pit of my stomach with no qualms about
collateral damage. An icy chill washed over me from head to toe
and my knees turned to jelly, no longer willing or able to
support my weight. My vision turned to haze and I started to
spin, around and around, down and down, a slow-motion dance, its
climax a full body embrace with the floor. I spiralled at
half-speed, watching as the platform below me transformed into a
grotesque grey mass, its slimy bulk pulsating with a gloomy,
unnatural light. I closed my eyes and braced for impact.

I awoke to a face full of grey carpet. I was lying on the floor
beside my bed, the sheets tangled around my feet and my top
halfway up my chest. A chill breeze was drifting in through the
window as the automated alarm system gradually reduced the
tinting of the glass and began letting in the air from outside.
Living thirty-three stories up meant that mornings had the
potential to deliver quite blistering winds, which was why most
sensible people did not open their windows. I was clearly an
idiot. That realisation aside, I had good reason for wanting to
avoid the usual snooze button temptation this morning. It was my
twenty-first birthday, and that meant it was time for my
ascendance test.

The law stated that, after turning twenty-one, you had
forty-eight hours to get your ass to an Ascension office. Well,
maybe it didn't use those exact words, but it meant
essentially the same thing. The ads for Ark City made it clear
that this rigid time constraint was for our own benefit, ensuring
'optimum results' in the test, but there was no denying that it
was kind of an odd requirement to make legally binding.

An Ascension office is one of the few places where you could be
assured of seeing an ascendant, catching them during their brief
downtime before they disappeared into the city to conduct
whatever business they had here in Sallustria. The offices also
served as gatehouses for the only means of travel to the floating
utopia above - assuming you could find a way to obtain
authorisation. As far as I know, the only time 'normal' people
are allowed up there is for their ascendance operation -
if they're lucky enough to pass the test. Passage is
provided by the colossal stalk lifts connected to the buildings,
the spires catapulting upwards to pierce the sky-scape projection
covering the surface of Ark City's gargantuan hull. The
ascendance test itself is apparently a series of non-invasive
body scans that can determine whether you are capable of
achieving 'ascendance', and thus the right to travel to and
reside in Ark City. They say it's not compulsory for ascendants
to live there, but I've never heard of any spending more than a
few days down here before returning, even when they're visiting
family!

And I'm not just basing my assumptions on the scant few
ascendants I've personally seen. I have actual data that backs me
up! I remember watching a newscast projection on the face of the
See-Worlds building - Tired of Earth? We can take you to the
Stars! - where some expert said that of the estimated 0.05%
of the population that had been deemed viable and received the
ascendance operation, less than two hundred were present in
Sallustria at any one time. The data reportedly came from APT
logs, and the list of IDs recorded one day would often be
completely different to the next. While this validated my theory
that ascendants were reluctant to stay here for an extended
period of time, it gave me no clue as to why. I would love to get
the chance to ask an ascendant face-to-face, but they all seemed
to avoid us 'regular' people like we had the plague or something.

Only once had I ever seen an ascendant walk down the street
alone. He had appeared completely oblivious to the world around
him, his eyes locked forward and his arms swinging mechanically.
Other pedestrians had stopped and stared in awe or tried to grab
his attention, but he ignored them with unflinching resolve,
striding onwards as the crowd's eager cries faded into whispered
disappointment. As would be expected, this kind of behaviour had
spawned much suspicion and distrust towards Ascension, alleviated
in no way by the heavily scripted interviews and speeches they
had presented over the years. Yet despite the regular smear
campaigns that ran like clockwork every few months, Ascension
showed no signs of leaving anytime soon, and Ark City remained a
constant presence in the sky above, as ubiquitous as real grass
had been, so many centuries ago.

I struggled to my feet, unravelling the sheets and heaping them
back onto the bed. I pulled my shirt back down and started to
leave the room, pausing at the threshold as goose-bumps started
to rise up my arms. I decided that it was far too cold to be
strutting around half-naked, so I grabbed the sheets back off the
bed and threw them over my shoulders as a makeshift cloak.
Huddled within, I emerged from my room into the hallway and made
my way into the kitchen and living area. Mum was already up,
sitting on the couch and watching the morning show projection on
the wall. She had her Comp in one hand and a coffee in the other,
and was so preoccupied with checking her messages that she didn't
notice me enter.

"Hi Mum," I announced.

She jumped from the unexpected noise, and her coffee sloshed over
her robe and onto the couch cushions.

"Crap! Liz, you scared the hell out of me! Damn it! Look at the
bloody couch…"

Mum stood up and frowned disparagingly at the brown stain slowly
spreading across the blue cushions.

"Sorry Mum!" I rushed into the kitchen and retrieved the
multi-purpose cleaner from the top shelf in the pantry. I ran
back and handed the can to her, shuffling around to get a good
view as she squeezed the trigger and a fine mist settled onto the
couch fabric. It was always fascinating to watch the cleaning
substance take effect, and an unconscious smile spread across my
face as the coffee stain began to rise from the cushion,
solidifying into a thin brown cake that slowly contracted in on
itself like a burning sheet of paper. Once it had compressed into
a small, crinkled ball, Mum picked it up and deposited it into
the trash receptacle in the kitchen. As she returned the can to
its shelf, I caught sight of the flashing slogan playing across
its side. Spray once, problem solved! Mum sighed as she
returned to the couch.

"Urgh! Cleaning is such a chore. Hey Liz, do you think you could
do me a favour and go collect the laundry? The notification came
through on my Comp a couple of minutes ago." I nodded and spun on
my heel, eager to atone for making her spill her coffee. I
dragged my blanket coat down the hallway and made my way to the
laundry. It was more of an alcove than a room, just a slight
depression in the wall with two square silver hatches. One was
labelled Dirty, the other Clean. The control
panel set between them was currently glowing green, confirming
that the laundry had indeed been returned from the building's
central cleaning system. I opened the Clean hatch and
slid the tray out, dumping the fresh clothes into a basket which
I picked up and started lugging back out to the living room. The
system was pretty easy: you threw your soiled garments into the
Dirty chute, waited for a couple of minutes, then
retrieved them from the Clean chute, ironed, cleaned,
folded, and ready to wear. As I carried the basket down the
hallway, my nose picked out the fragrant raspberry-lime odour
that had been infused into the fabric of the clothes. I smiled
and closed my eyes, breathing in the succulent scent and
savouring it as a shiver ran down my spine. Mum always knew how
to make the most boring things enjoyable.

I stepped out from the end of the corridor and stared in awe at
the fantastical transformation the living room had undergone in
my absence. I was so shocked that the laundry basket slipped from
my fingers and hit the ground with a blast of displaced air. Mum
obviously hadn't expected me out of bed so early this morning,
and had used the laundry as an excuse to get me back out of the
room for a few minutes so she could enact her devious plan. She
had turned the normally tepid space into a commotion of vibrant
colours and frantic movement by setting the living room Comp to
render a scene straight out of a swords and sorcery fantasy
novel. A miniature castle stood in the middle of the room, with
hundreds of tiny archers patrolling the ramparts as a swarm of
hideous orcs assaulted the walls. A dragon screeched down from
above and filled the room with orange flames and billowing smoke.
After a minute or so the scene slowly faded away to reveal a
tranquil grove buried within a dark forest. Mum wandered forward
and wrapped an arm around me, squeezing my side affectionately. I
reciprocated and we both watched as a parade of faeries fluttered
through, their bodies constantly morphing into new and exotic
forms. This elaborate vista eventually faded too, and we found
ourselves inside a massive hall, towering statues arrayed between
columns and an elevated dais in front of us bearing a proud oak
throne. A velvet throw embroidered with twisting golden flowers
adorned the seat, and a rug extended beneath our feet and back
down the hall. A tall figure shuffled toward us, head lowered in
deference.

"Your Grace, would you allow me the honour of bestowing your
magnificent head with this simple crown?" With this the man
produced a glittering golden circlet, inset with gems of onyx and
sapphire - anything but 'simple'. I giggled, turning to Mum. She
beamed at me, clearly seeing through my twenty-one year old
façade to the innocent eight year old daughter within. I smiled
back and knelt to receive my crown, knowing that Mum had spent an
inordinate amount of time putting her heart and soul into this.
While it might be kind of cheesy - and I had no plans to
voluntarily share it with my friends - it was something
I would cherish for the rest of my life. Mum and I have had to
rely on each other since Dad left, taking it in turns to make
dinner, clean the house, and look after the other when they get
sick. In truth, I saw Mum less as a parent and more as a friend.
My best friend.

After spending a few minutes basking in the roaring applause of a
people adoring their queen, the virtual began to shut down, the
projection collapsing back into the Comp like a star about to go
supernova. The room returned to its decidedly more mundane
appearance and Mum rushed down the hallway, her fading footsteps
tracking her progress as she ran to her bedroom. I was still
smiling, stunned that Mum had managed to craft such a wonderful
virtual based on my love of fantasy stories. It was infinitely
more complex than the educationals and playhouse 'sitters that
she built for work. It must have taken her weeks! My
friends were always boasting about getting huge transfers from
their parents, but that was the sum total of their birthday
celebrations. I pitied them. I really did. I had a Mum who
genuinely cared about me, who knew what I was interested in. Mum
sauntered back in with a coy look on her face and her hands
behind her back then gestured for me to sit down by nodding her
head in the direction of the couch. As I sat, Mum approached and
revealed a small plastic box wrapped with a bow.

"Go on, open it," said Mum eagerly, the grin on her face tempered
with a slight hint of uncertainty.

I untied the bow and fumbled with the box until I managed to get
the lid off. Inside, resting on springy black foam, were two pass
cards for a short orbit of Earth.

"Oh my God Mum! These must have cost a fortune!"

Mum smiled back, her tension subsiding in the wake of my delight.

"Now, you don't have to, but I was thinking, if none of
your friends wanted to go, well, we could go together?" asked Mum
warily.

"Don't be silly! Of course we'll go together!" I shouted,
throwing my arms around her and pulling her onto the couch with
me. We both smiled and laughed as we hugged. It was a tremendous
gift from Mum, not only because of the cost of the passes, but
because she was an extremely nervous flyer. Riding around in an
APT (the generic descriptor: All-Purpose Transport) didn't cause
any problems, but the few times we had taken a cruiser intercity
Mum would get a bad case of claustrophobia. Her hands would begin
shaking, and it would take a lot for her to push thoughts of the
miles of open space between us and the ground to the back of her
mind. So this was a big sacrifice she was making, and it wasn't
the first time either. I grinned and squeezed Mum tighter,
thanking every heavenly body I could think of for giving me
everything I could hope for.

After wolfing down a banquet breakfast - courtesy of our
top-of-the-line KitchenMate - it was time to finally
take the plunge, grabbing my ticket, crossing my fingers, and
hoping my number came up on the evolutionary wheel of fortune.
I'd been dreaming of this day for months, my unconscious brain
entertaining the remote possibility that I could join the ranks
of the intellectual elite, the vanguards of human evolution, and
play a pivotal role in shaping Sallustria's future. I grabbed a
self-heating sachet of Chicken Munchies (one of my favourite
snacks of late), kissed Mum goodbye and nearly made it to the
door before I realised I was still wearing my pyjamas. I turned
to see Mum grinning at me from the kitchen doorway, and I waved
her off as I wandered dejectedly back to my room.

After leaving my bedroom this morning, the house Comp had
retracted the bed into the wall and replaced it with a couch,
desk and desk chair according to my current daily routine. I
swiped my hand over the wall next to the window, now closed but
fully transparent and displaying a cityscape just starting to
wake, and a panel ejected and slid sideways to reveal the closet.
Inside was a neatly arrayed wall of blank grey outfits, a sight
that never ceased to disappoint me. I understand that it's to
save power, but still...

I swept my hand through the mass of grey fabric, playing the
outfits like strings on a harp, and watched as a cacophony of
colour exploded before my eyes. From each point of contact
kaleidoscope ripples pulsed, life blooming into the dull grey
material. Sleeves shrank down or puffed out, forming t-shirts and
woolly jackets. Some outfits split apart and reformed with
multiple layers, others adopted pre-programmed wear and tear to
flavour their design. I stared at the now resplendent wardrobe
and smiled proudly. Much better! I pulled out a cotton t-shirt
and jacket combo with a long skirt. My jacket depicted a dark
forest with multiple sets of eyes peering out of the shadows.
Occasionally they would blink, and sometimes shift places. It was
sufficiently unnerving and suited my sadistic side quite well.

I walked back down the hall to the bathroom and dumped my clothes
on the bench before turning the shower on. The building's
regulations limited the shower length and pressure, and after
removing my clothes and stepping in to the enclosure the jets
began a steady stream of room temperature water. I swiped my hand
across the control panel and the heat gradually increased. Just
before it got too hot I swiped again and the temperature
stabilised. If I had wanted to I could have extended the length
of the shower, but that would have incurred an excess charge on
our bill and at any rate, I wasn't interested in dawdling. The
shower ended and I dried and dressed as briskly as I could,
remembering at the last minute to apply this month's treatment of
green colouring to my hair. It had been starting to fade in the
last few days, and I didn't fancy I could pull of the whole
half-green, half-brown style. There were already too many kids
running around with dozens of colours in their hair, and some
were even getting those injections that caused the strands to
alternate hue every few seconds. Seriously, sometimes I just
didn't understand fashion.

After letting the spray work its magic for a few seconds, I swung
back out to the kitchen to say goodbye to Mum, this time for
real. Another quick peck on the cheek and I was out the door and
into the lift at the end of the apartment hallway. The lift was
walled with c-spex panels - the ultra-thin, durable, transparent
material that was used for everything - and afforded quite an
agreeable view of the city, with the early morning APTs buzzing
through a jungle of sleek, towering edifices and flashing,
multi-coloured projections. I skimmed my eye over the ads for the
latest virtuals, the hottest actors, the most powerful portable
Comps, all the wonderful excesses of our consumer driven society.
Ark City loomed overhead, its dominant bulk tattooed with a clear
sky-scape forecasting the perfect day ahead. Not for the first
time I wondered what life must have been like before the cloud
farming stations, when the weather was wild and uncontrolled, and
rain would fall unimpeded from the sky. The water preservation
scheme had been in place for so long that not even Mum had known
true rain. The closest either of us had come had been during our
trip to Kitaki forest, one of the few remaining nature reserves
that wasn't hidden under an enviro-dome. During our closely
guarded trek, a hydration drone had strafed us with bullets of
chemically altered bio-fluid. It had been an interesting
experience, but it was still a far cry from the raging storms
depicted in many of my fantasy stories.

The lift settled on the twelfth floor and the doors slid apart to
reveal a smattering of early risers wandering back and forth
across the main plaza. Access to the public boarding platforms
that jutted from the building was provided by a broad set of
doors on the other side of the room, so I began negotiating my
way through the congestion of tables and chairs, planters filled
with synth-forestry, and harried office workers chugging their
steaming hot coffees. I waded through a sea of fluctuating
dialogue, overhearing conversations about the mech-fights -
Did you see the arena semi- last night? Phwoar, I've never seen
c-spex melt that fast! -, lunch plans - You reckon the
boss'll spring for pizza if I tell 'im it's me birthday? - ,
and complaints about the cleaning drones buzzing around above us
- Lazy bastards! What does a guy have to do here to get a
clean table, dammit!? I tuned out the relentless drawl and
continued to fight through the tangle of toppled chairs and
discarded trash that the drones hadn't gotten around to yet. Man,
if Mum caught our house looking like this I think she'd kill me!

With the terminal doors in sight, I sidled around a woman
attempting to shovel breakfast into her rioting children and
strode towards the APT panels set just inside the exit alcove. I
commandeered the nearest one and punched in the address of the
local Ascension office. The screen prompted me to sync my Comp to
complete the request, so I slid the cool, slim rectangular strip
out of my pocket and pulled the corners apart. It unfolded into a
large empty rectangle which immediately filled with a vibrant
projected display. I flicked my hand across it to initiate the
connection. Once established, the panel confirmed that an APT
would arrive for me within the next minute, so I bounced through
the doors and into the chilly morning breeze. The boarding
platform was completely open to the elements, with only a stubby
perimeter railing and a line of benches that offered no
protection from the wind's icy tendrils as they tunnelled through
my clothes. I pulled at the collar of my jacket and peered at the
micro-Comp display embedded inside. The temperature read eight
degrees Celsius. I toggled the lock switch and swiped my finger
across the sensor, feeling the fabric begin to vibrate almost
imperceptibly as I increased the setting to a comfortable twenty
degrees. A gratifying rush of warmth caused me to sigh in relief,
and within a matter of seconds I was toasty warm, my shins the
only remaining victims to the bite of the stiff morning currents.

I walked along the platform, past the rows of benches and a life
size projection of a handsome male model beckoning to me, trying
to persuade me to purchase a copy of a romantic vampire virtual
that he insisted was 'better than sex'. The Comp controlling the
projection must have polled the one in my pocket for my personal
details: name, sector of residence and a couple of other things
that the corps had pressured the government into making public
access. I guess from there it must have picked up on my shopping
history, despicably associating this wannabe piece of garbage
with my plethora of fantasy fiction. I managed to resist the
blatant attempt at appealing to my primal urges, only sparing a
brief second glance as the model began to caress his body, a
leering glint in his eyes. Damn, these ads don't hold back now
that I'm classified as an adult!

I stepped up my pace and reached the end of the vacant platform,
retrieving my Comp from my pocket, unfolding it and lifting it to
face the sky. An arrow bulged on the display, indicating the
direction of the APT I had booked, and I spun around until it was
pointing dead ahead. I switched to augmented reality mode on the
Comp and punched up the zoom until a small dot appeared, growing
steadily larger every second. After a few seconds I didn't need
the Comp at all, and watched with my own eyes as the bulbous blob
revealed itself as one of the Beetle APTs - flat on the
bottom with two c-spex bubble cabins protruding from the top. I
peered into the fore compartment as the shuttle descended and saw
the driver's gruff, lined face, the journal of a man who had
dealt with his fair share of irate and rowdy clientele. He set
his ship down in front of me and the rear bubble slid away into
the vehicle, prompting me to quickly leap up the small stairs
that had extended from the compartment's side. I've had the
'pleasure' of dealing with a few grizzled APT drivers before, and
they'll quite happily fly upside down if you take too long
getting into the vehicle. Fortunately, after sitting down and
strapping in, the driver took off smoothly and shot into the sky,
deftly avoiding a convoy of mobile projection platforms orbiting
a nearby shopping complex.

It wasn't a long trip, but by the time we touched down near the
Ascension office the sky was filled with morning commuters. After
authorising the fare payment on my Comp, the bubble retracted and
I disembarked. Twin suits bustled past and clambered into the
rear compartment and the APT drifted back into the traffic and
off to its next destination. I flipped my Comp back up to get my
bearings, and I noticed that I had a new message in my inbox. I
threaded through the crowd of waiting passengers so that I
wouldn't be knocked down in the rush, and found a reasonably
vacant spot near a small café stall. The 3D projection of a large
honey bee happily slurping a coffee and buzzing around conflicted
with the openly unenthusiastic staff who manned the stall, and I
couldn't help wondering whether any of them had actually seen a
real bee before. During the trip Mum and I had made to the Kitaki
forest we had been lucky enough to stroll through a small glade
that was home to a wide range of flowers, and we witnessed a
number of bees extracting nectar from them. Here in the city all
you got were the synthetic varieties, engineered for form over
function, a trend that had pervaded nearly all of Sallustria's
flora and fauna. That was a pretty depressing thought, and I
spent a moment lamenting the verdant landscapes long extinct,
living on only inside the virtual worlds of our Comps. I shed the
misery with a rough shake of my head and returned my focus to the
display in my hand. Settling into one of the cheap plastic stools
outside the stall, I flicked open the message icon and began
reading.

Sender: Error 3135 - variable 'sender' cannot be NULL

Subject: An Urgent Plea for Your Assistance

Elizabeth Finlea,

Happy birthday! You are now legally an adult, and we would
like to congratulate you and wish you all the best.

Since you will be taking the ascendance test within the next
forty-eight hours, we felt it prudent to inform you that there
may be more to Ascension than they want you to know. Their claims
of leading humanity into a new age are admittedly noble, but
there are many lingering questions that they refuse to answer.
What does the procedure involve? Why can't they establish a
laboratory down here to conduct it? Why do so few ascendants
return to Sallustria after their operation?

In order to uncover the truth, we have established an enclave
of dedicated and hardworking Sallustrians, each seeking answers
to those difficult questions, and we like you to consider
assisting us in our quest. We do not ask that you devote yourself
to our cause, but simply that - should you pass your test and
earn passage to Ark City - you provide us with any information
that could help quell our concerns. We simply want to know the
truth, which is something every citizen of Sallustria
deserves.

If you are interested, please send a blank message to
[ADDRESS PROVIDED] and we will contact you with further
information.

Thank you for your time.

I stared quizzically at the message for some time, confused not
by the content but by the missing sender address. I had thought
it was impossible to communicate anonymously; at least, that's
what the EDU-VI they showed us in high school had claimed.
Electronic accountability was pretty darn important when you
could live your entire life on the net and in virtuals. I
shrugged and flipped the message into my archive. The plea for
assistance wasn't anything new. It seemed like every other week a
new petition was raised to get the Bureau to investigate
Ascension, but they always failed. These guys were obviously fed
up with the endless rejection cycle, and had taken it upon
themselves to helm the inquiry. Oh well, good luck to them. I had
zero interest in becoming a political activist and besides,
Ascension had been a permanent fixture in Sallustria for decades.
If they were up to something nefarious, it would have been
discovered long ago.

I loaded up the quickest route to the Ascension office on my Comp
and left the café, ducking through the stream of scooter pods
that now dominated the street traffic and joining the
comparatively scant number of pedestrians as they filed towards
the auto-path. I spared a longing look for the clear bubbles
whizzing past us. They were the smallest form of personal
transport in the city; a malleable, body-conforming bubble that
would shrink to the size of your palm when you weren't using it.
Mum wouldn't let me buy one though, insisting that the walking
was good for me. Too many kids waste all their time in those
bloody IN-VIs, never getting any exercise! You know, some parents
have actually complained about all the songs and dances in my
virtuals? They say it's too tough for their kids! Can you believe
that?

I dragged my eyes away from the procession of sleek,
multi-coloured pods and boarded the auto-path. I gripped the
railing as the fast-moving platform shot us through a short
tunnel and spat us out at the end of a broad avenue. The street
was walled with dull, monolithic towers, each responsible for
managing different aspects of everyday life in the sector. Waste
management, power distribution, construction and renovation,
education: not exactly the most desirable jobs, but necessarily
nonetheless. While undeniably imposing, these buildings were
utterly dwarfed by the titanic stalk leering down from the end of
the avenue. I let my gaze trail down the immense structure and
settle on the lurid edifice of the Ascension office. Even from
this distance I could spy the company logo projected above the
doors: the word Ascension gradually curling upwards in a
visual manifestation of their name. Having confirmed my
destination, I returned my gaze to the street and began marching
forward.

Bisecting the road was a lengthy strip of shops and stalls, their
myriad vibrant projections offering visual reprieve from the
greys and browns of the corporate valley walls. Neon logos and
pastel mascots pranced overhead while assistant drones twisted in
and out of the bustle of people, hoping to entice them to
exchange their hard earned currency for entertainment or a moment
of relaxation. An old, one wheeled drone with a vaguely human
torso spun around and around, flinging sparkling cylinders into
the air. They would fly high above the crowd before exploding
into shimmering fragments that formed and reformed various shapes
as gravity pulled them down. Before hitting the ground, the tiny
fireworks would coalesce into the original cylinder, primed and
ready to go again. The slogan claimed: Good for five-hundred
launches! A popular children's virtual was being projected
above an open air café. Various anthropomorphic characters were
singing and beckoning a group of children to dance with them.

I let myself get swallowed up by the crowd, my mind wandering to
the story I was currently reading. The author had adopted the
recent trend of episodic chapters, where a chapter would be
released and feedback and reader interest would influence the
subsequent chapters. It created a very communal story - though
many traditional writers considered this sacrilege to the art -
and it would occasionally produce some extremely engaging
fiction. Of course, there had also been many cases where a story
turned to complete crap because a writer tried to please too many
people at once. I was contemplating whether I wanted the
protagonist of The Vertical Slice to try and save his
traitorous associate or not when I realised that I had arrived at
the Ascension building.

Squeezing out of the flow of bodies, I stepped underneath the
main archway and onto an illuminated path lined with super-scale
projections. Each one depicted a stylised human figure looking
upwards with a smile on its face, while cloaked figures descended
from above to lift them up. Bold primary colours and beatific
smiles presented a real image of hope, and I found my face had
subconsciously shifted to reflect their radiant visages. Tearing
my eyes away from the magnificent artistry, I strode toward the
entrance doors. They were shaped like two hands grasping one
another, the fingers interlocking when closed. They released
their grip as I approached, and I wandered into the reception
area. It was a brightly lit, heavily carpeted room with a curved
desk sweeping from wall to wall in the opposite corner. Couches
and benches lay unoccupied along the side wall, while a set of
double doors beside the reception desk provided access further
into the building. Two men were sitting behind the desk, one
muttering something into a headset and the other staring vacantly
at a Comp display. The rest of the foyer was vacant, so I stepped
up to the desk and cleared my throat uncertainly.

"Hi, I'm Elizabeth Finlea. I'm here for my ascendance test?" I
prodded politely, the rising inflection in my voice intended as a
way of masking my nerves and endearing myself to the other party,
a habit I had inherited from Mum.

The man looked at me with the same deadpan stare he had been
giving his Comp and nodded slowly. He glanced back down and
traced lazy arcs across the display for a few moments before
finally addressing me.

"Okay, I've just notified the doc that you're here." He paused
for a moment and yawned without covering his mouth. "You're first
up today, so you shouldn't be waiting too long. Take a seat." The
man gestured to the benches on the far wall without lifting his
eyes from the Comp in front of him.

"Uhhh…thanks," I chimed, brushing off his rude attitude and
turning to sit down on the proffered bench.

The light shining from the illuminated ceiling panels was far too
intense for this time of morning, so I hung my head slightly as I
shuffled into the seat. With my eyes boring holes into the floor,
it wasn't until my name was called out that I realised I was no
longer alone with the reception staff. I snapped my head up and
recoiled in discomfort from the sudden, devastating glare. As my
eyes adjusted, a new figure came into focus, standing with arms
crossed in front of the interior doors. It was an ascendant! The
realisation caused a minor flutter of my heart and my hand
instinctively gripped tight on the arm rest next to me.

He was completely bald, his head instead inscribed with complex
symbols in perpetual motion; the shapes ebbing and flowing,
expanding and shrinking, almost impossible to resolve.
Multi-coloured lines threaded across his scalp, forming spirals
and clefts, cross-hatching and prisms. Some were pulsing,
changing colour and luminosity in patterns impossible to discern.
It was magical, spellbinding, like staring into a raging fire,
both beautiful and deadly, his head a furnace lit with a thousand
dancing flames. When I finally managed to tear my eyes away, I
saw that he was staring at me, an expectant look on his face. I
jumped to my feet and began stumbling towards him, wonder in my
eyes but trepidation in my heart, the culmination of months of
anticipation mere minutes away. I tried to clear my mind of
concern by focusing back on the ascendant. He was clothed in a
tight, form-fitting grey outfit, strikingly similar to the
unpowered garb I had seen in my wardrobe earlier. He held the
door for me and I stepped through, waiting then following as he
led me further into the complex. My mind was spinning like a
centrifuge, trying to separate the dozens of questions demanding
to be asked. It proved futile, with my nerves continuously
drowning my thoughts in cold waves of fear, and the ascendant and
I walked on in mutual silence.

The ascendant led me into a bleak room of grey walls, a raised
plinth in the centre of the room surrounded by a mess of
expensive looking medical equipment. He turned to face me and
gestured to the plinth.

The entire line was spoken without a single change in tone,
emotionless and dismissive. I stared at him in bafflement for a
moment, startled by his odd voice, before following his command
and climbing a small set of steps to stand in the middle of the
platform.

"Do I need to, uhh, remove any items, you know, my Comp or
anything?" I asked.

The ascendant shook his head very slowly, as if he was scanning
the room. He retreated to the far corner and a panel extended
from the wall at his touch. He flicked at the display for a few
moments, and the ceiling above me made a whoosh sound
and slid away to allow a mechanical arm to descend. It lowered
until it sat just above my head, a long black bar with a thick
strip of light across its underside. The device began to spin
slowly, and I had to look away to avoid making myself dizzy.
Returning my gaze to the room revealed that the ascendant had
disappeared and the door had closed, leaving me alone and
suddenly quite scared. Before I could react, that droll,
monotonous voice barked from a speaker hidden somewhere in the
corner of the room.

"Please stay still. The test will begin in a second. It should
only take a couple of minutes."

I focused on my breathing, keeping it steady and slow to suppress
the jitters in my hands. The arm above me spun faster and faster,
lowering and rotating around my body from head to toe. An
involuntary shiver ran up my spine, a terrible sense of
vulnerability permeating my fragile calm. I was sure I was being
observed, through cameras in the walls or the ceiling or
somewhere, but there was nothing I could do except wait it out.
True to the ascendant's word, the arm finished scanning after a
couple of minutes and the door opened to let in a red-haired
woman. She was wearing a shimmering white coat over her silver
body suit, and she smiled warmly as the device retracted into the
ceiling.

"Miss Finlea? My name is Jane Drewer. I was just monitoring your
scan," she cooed.

She thrust her hand out for a handshake, which I accepted with
significantly less gusto than she offered.

"No, no, no, nothing wrong at all! Quite the opposite! The test
has indicated that you're eligible for ascendance! You're going
to take the next step in human evolution!"

I was stunned. My mouth dropped and my brain locked up for a few
seconds as it attempted to cope with the magnitude of Jane's
words. Did she really say I was going to become an ascendant? See
Ark City? Was I dreaming? As the gears in my mind began turning
once again, I regained my composure and closed my mouth. Jane was
staring quizzically with an edge of concern before I finally
managed to respond.

"Urrgh. Uhhhh. Are you sure?" I managed to choke out.

"Quite sure!" the woman replied, her face again breaking into a
smile, albeit one significantly tamer than before.

My head was still reeling but I was beginning to piece together
the consequences of this revelation. My life was going to change
completely. All the advertisements I had seen presented a Utopia
of science and discovery in Ark City. Technology decades beyond
that of Sallustria. Claims that ascendants perceived the world in
more than three dimensions. It was pretty much the combination of
the best parts of my favourite fantasy stories rolled into one
and made real. Mum was going to flip! I wonder what we'll do once
we get to Ark City and I've had my operation. Do we need to get
jobs? I know they claim that citizens of Ark City are working to
further the advancement of humanity, but what does that mean
exactly? Will I become some sort of scientist? An inventor? There
were so many unknowns, so much possibility. My imagination had
not only run away, it had boarded a shuttle and left Earth!

"This is amazing!" I exclaimed. "Can I call my Mum?" Jane frowned
for a second before her smile returned.

"Certainly! But it will have to wait until after we're on our
way. We have so many things to do, and so little time!" She
started waving her hands towards the door, beckoning me to move.

"Umm, can't I just call her now? I've got my Comp right here." I
reached into my pocket and began sliding it out. "And wait a
minute. What do you mean 'after we're on our way'? What about
Mum? I'm not going up without her!" I was starting to get
agitated, confusion begetting anger and briefly suspending my
manners. What she was saying didn't make sense. What the heck was
so important that we had to get going right now? They had waited
twenty-one years to test me, what was another couple of hours?
Jane's mouth and eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, another
crack in her steadily crumbling facade. My hands were beginning
to tremble, and I felt my heart flutter as it skipped a beat and
fought to catch up.

"Sure dear, what was I thinking? We'll just head out to the lobby
and contact your mother. Once she arrives we'll all go
up the stalk together. How does that sound?" She strode over with
a broad smile and wrapped her arm around my shoulders, gently
manoeuvring me towards the door. With her free hand she tapped at
a panel on the wall next to it.

"Th-that sounds much better. W-w-what are you doing?" I managed
to bumble out amidst a cloying fog of confusion.

"Nothing dear. Come now, let's head back to the lobby and you
can contact your mother." Her tone was soothing, but there was
something in the way she had said 'mother' that sent a chill up
my spine. No, I must be imagining things. My mind was probably
just overloaded from all the new information and possibilities
that had sprung up in the last few minutes. I shook my head to
dislodge any errant thoughts and we swung left out the door and
into the hallway. I eyed the door in the distance and took a
couple of steps before I realised that the pressure on my
shoulder had abated and I was walking alone. I stopped and turned
to see where Jane had gone. As I swivelled I felt an icy sting
shoot through my right shoulder and numbness began to creep along
my arm and neck. The shock threw me off balance and my spin
developed a noticeable vertical decline. As I spiralled down to
the floor I caught sight of two silvery figures approaching from
behind Jane, too distant for any features to resolve. Jane,
however, was front and centre, crystal clear even as my vision
began to fade. She stared at me with razor sharp eyes and a
wicked keen smile, revelling in whatever inexplicable joy my fall
had given her. She opened her mouth and bellowed furiously to her
cohorts, her venomous tone shifting and distorting as my senses
failed and a sudden, overwhelming fatigue dragged me into
oblivion.

"Hurry up you two, we haven't got all day! And now I have to go
deal with the mother before sh-" Darkness overwhelmed
me.

CHAPTER TWO

DEREK KWEI

"Doooooonnkey Kong!" screamed Jimmy. He was standing atop the
church spire on the other side of the courtyard, waving
dramatically and pointing to the blazing barn on my left. Swarms
of flaming zombies were stumbling and falling as they tried to
escape the burning building, forming a grotesque mound of charred
and smoking death. I smiled grimly. The zombies had been a great
idea (one of my best, if I don't say so myself) but the smarmy
bastards on the other team had lit up their hiding place,
sacrificing their superior cover but driving out my weaponised
corpses. It was time to end this. They couldn't remain in the
barn for long - the raging inferno would be draining their HP at
a phenomenal rate - so Jimmy and I had to take advantage of their
panicked escape, and fast. I pulled out my grapple gun, holding
it up so that Jimmy could see and follow suit, and aimed it at a
gargantuan, half-decayed redwood - according to the description
in the codex - looming from behind the barn. I fired, a distant
thunk confirming that the shot had struck home, and
yanked on the ejection trigger. The wire popped out and I quickly
wrapped it around an air-conditioning vent protruding from the
roof. I threw my hands over the taut line and leapt, holding
tight and gritting my teeth as I careened towards the thick,
rotted trunk. I let go at the last second, gracefully landing on
a thick branch and immediately scanning the rear of the barn for
movement. At the edge of my vision I could see Jimmy whizzing by
against a backdrop of suburban ruin, dismounting and disappearing
into a patch of dark green scrub on the other side of the barn.

I slipped my hand behind my back, rolling my fingers from thumb
to pinkie to scroll through my inventory. Flares, medical
syringes, ah, binoculars, there we go. I clenched my fist, and as
I opened my hand a pair of binoculars materialised in my palm.
Raising them to my eyes, I scanned the dim yard that extended
from the rear door of the barn. Nothing yet. I swung my gaze to
the roof and peered through gaps in the smouldering wood, but all
I saw were the ravenous orange flames as they continued to
consume the structure. A sudden mournful wail snapped my
attention to the empty blackness beyond the barn. I squinted
slightly and caught sight of a shimmer of movement, a
black-on-black river flowing between the trees. Another novel
idea blossomed inside my skull. The restriction on conventional
weapons made for some truly excellent and harrowing experiences,
and this was definitely one of the better matches I had played. I
flicked through my inventory once again, settling on a hunk of
rat meat I had found stashed in a barrel earlier. The wet slab
coated my hand in grimy juices, and shook it dry as best I could
before transferring it to my other hand. I selected a small flask
of lighter fluid from my pack and coated the meat completely.
Lining up my trajectory, I lifted my arm and pelted the meat into
the middle of the yard. Finally, I pulled out the closest thing
to a weapon that I had - the flare gun that all players started
out with - and settled on my haunches, waiting anxiously, the
binoculars trained on the rear door of the barn. I spotted
Jimmy's head emerge from the brush and scan the area, and for a
moment I considered scrapping my plan, but I shrugged the thought
aside and refocused on the door. This was about the team, not the
individual, and if I needed to sacrifice Jimmy, he'd understand.

A piercing creak shattered the night air and I squeezed the
trigger, watching as the flare sailed through the sky and
embedded itself in the chunk of meat. In a matter of seconds the
slab had become improvised steak, extra crispy. I cupped a hand
to my ear, eagerly awaiting confirmation of my ingenuity. A lone,
unearthly howl quickly escalated into a chorus and I grinned,
creeping to the edge of my branch to get a closer look at the
impending bloodbath. A swarm of human figures burst out of the
barn just as a black cloud seemed to emerge from the forest
opposite. The burning meat clearly stumped the figures exiting
the barn, as most stopped and swung their heads or span on the
spot as they tried to locate their foes. One of them eventually
spotted the approaching pack, and a bellowing cry ignited a
flurry of confusion.

"WOOOOOOLLLLVVVVEESSSS!!!"

The figures darted in all directions, desperately seeking refuge
but finding nothing but crumbled walls and rusting machinery.
None proved quick-witted enough to attempt to scale my tree, and
one even attempted to run back into the barn, meeting his fate at
the hands of a rain of flaming timber. A text message popped up
in the corner of my vision.

Kai_Master has been burnt alive by Donkey_Kong.

I pumped my fist and grinned. Sweet, credit for the kill! The
readout started to scroll as the rest of the group succumbed to
the ferocious wolves and their limitless appetites. I leaned
closer, observing through the binoculars and trying to get a
clearer view of the massacre. I heard a tiny crack and a
second later the branch gave way, sending me plummeting face
first towards the ground.

"CRAAAAAP!" I bellowed.

I hit the dirt with a deafening thud, my HP severely
drained from the impact. I rolled on to my side, hoping to crawl
back into cover, and froze. Gleaming teeth with fresh drops of
blood still dripping from their tips filled my vision. I had less
than a second to contemplate my fate before the world snapped to
black with a sickening crunch.

"You're a bitch D.K.!" shouted Jimmy, jabbing me playfully in the
shoulder. He was standing by my side with his IN-VI helmet in the
crook of his arm, the smirk on his face relieving his eyes of
their irritated glint. I lifted my own helmet from my head and
jumped up, dumping the helmet on my seat and gently shoved Jimmy
in retaliation. Strands of my shaggy brown hair were stuck to my
forehead, and as I brushed them away I felt the sweat that had
built up during our IN-VI session. Damn, that was some workout!

"You know you love it! 'Sides, we won didn't we?"

He smiled back at me and shook his head.

"Yeah, but we both died! We lost a shitload of points for that!"

"Awww, suck it up! We'll win them back next time!"

Jimmy pouted for a second, then shrugged and slapped on his usual
goofy grin.

"Another match?" he asked, eagerly shifting into a fighting
stance and bouncing on his toes.

"Mmmm, nah. I'm feeling pretty hungry, how about you? I'll even
shout you to make up for the points we lost," I replied,
stretching my arms and legs to awaken them from their slumber.
The arcade's IN-VI chairs were comfortable, but sitting anywhere
for such a prolonged period of time always left my muscles
cramped and sore. It didn't help that my body was so awkwardly
shaped and bulky - hence my nickname - that I often had to
contort myself just to fit into some of the smaller chairs.

"Yeah!" Jimmy's eyes shone even brighter, and he started punching
the air like a maniac. He had chugged down three boosters before
the match, and he was literally vibrating with kinetic potential.
"So Kong man, where we going to go?"

I glanced up at the time displays projected on the wall above the
payment desk: 11:15. The night was young.

"Swing by the market, then hit up Gregor and see what he's
working on?" I suggested.

Jimmy nodded, bounding towards the arcade entrance and swaying
back and forth to music only he could hear. I rolled my eyes,
shook my head, and smiled before following him between the rows
of IN-VI chairs. We passed flashing projections of explosions and
alien spaceships as we walked, and Jimmy stopped as he spied a
pair of cute girls in the adjacent aisle. One had long pink hair
hanging down to her shoulders; the other sported a half-white,
half-black cut spiked three inches long. Jimmy whistled
suggestively.

"Hey ladies, how you doing tonight?"

Both girls laughed and flipped him off, turning their backs on us
and walking away giggling.

"Nice work dipshit," I said. Jimmy took it all in stride, his
grin broad and unwavering.

We passed out of the cramped neon playground into the flickering
confusion of the street. We stood under a multi-layer canopy of
living projections, exotic and unreal forms undulating in an
explosion of vibrant colour, each replaying its brief existence
loop in an endless cycle to garner more attention. A bright red
phoenix swooped down from above, showering the crowded street
with glittering flames. As it passed overhead, the words
Phoenix Energy Booster- Burn bright for 36 hours
straight! sprang from its tail and grew to dominate the sky.
The phoenix swung around and looped through the letters of the
slogan. Jimmy and I ignored the advertisement, shielding our eyes
to avoid the impending detonation. BOOM! A smattering of
applause rang out from a small crowd of enthusiastic onlookers. I
rolled my eyes. I'd seen the projection at least three times
before, and it no longer impressed me.

We passed the gathered spectators and ascended a flight of pink
strobing stairs, arriving at the restaurant plaza where a steady
swarm of patrons flittered about the food stalls even at this
time of night. A sleek archway passed over our heads, adorned by
projections of various foodstuffs with coloured rays of light
extending over the plaza. The trails split and curved through the
air, ending their arcs at the food stalls that served that
particular fare, making it somewhat easier for consumers to find
what they desired. I was feeling like pizza, but it didn't boast
a place on the arch, so I clambered onto one of the pillars and
scanned the plaza keenly. The stalls here changed position fairly
regularly, since none of the proprietors technically had
permission to be there and had to pack up when the Enforcers
decided to crack down and raid it. Jimmy stared up at me hanging
on to the archway and smiled widely.

"Hey man, you going full monkey now? Ooh ooh, aah aah! Don-key
Kong!" he shouted, scratching his head and his side in the
timeless representation of a chimpanzee.

I sniggered, waving my free arm animatedly to mimic my namesake.
This caused Jimmy to break into laughter, and a few passers-by
stared at us dismissively. I returned my gaze to the plaza and
spotted a portly projected man spinning a pizza next to a golden
fire-breathing dragon, and jumped back down to the ground.

"Onward ho!" I shouted, slapping Jimmy on the back and surging
into the mass of bodies ahead.

After sating our appetites on a few slices of teriyaki chicken,
Jimmy and I exited the plaza and crept through the gloomy streets
towards Gregor's emporium. The closer we got, the darker the
shadows grew and the more furtive the people surrounding us
became. At one point the ground beneath our feet got damp, and I
looked down to see a pool of some muddy substance leaking from a
doorway to our right. Glancing up to the windows on the second
floor revealed periodic flashes of light, and I could just make
out a slight buzzing sound that peaked and ebbed rhythmically. A
cowled figure bustled past both Jimmy and I, grazing my shoulder
as they went past. A cold flash sparked where he contacted me,
and I caught a glimmer of metal on the figure's shoulder before
they were swallowed by the inky night. As we drew closer to our
destination, pushy stall owners began trying to hawk their wares
on us: hacked Comps, hovering assistance drones, portable
scanners that promised they could access the secure details of
Comps within a 20 metre radius. I deflected their advances with
waves of my arms or, when necessary, a forceful push and a polite
fuck off! Jimmy, being considerably slighter in build,
had to duck and weave his way past an especially avid seller of
illegal virtuals.

"Young man like you, you want pretty lady! You buy this, special
discount, special ladies you find nowhere else!" the old man
barked. Jimmy wasn't going to rise to the bait. He had sworn off
purchasing street-side virtuals after the last time, when
Party Night had been so poorly coded that all the girls'
heads had glitched out and been replaced with the words NULL
POINTER EXCEPTION floating disembodied above their necks.
That had given Jimmy nightmares for weeks!

After successfully navigating the gauntlet of disreputable
salespeople, we rounded a corner and found ourselves bathed in
glowing red light from an old-fashioned neon sign. Gregor's
Emporium - Your 1 Stop Sho. The 'p' had been busted for some
time, but Gregor had stressed the fact that most of his clientele
were regulars and the sign only remained for posterity. Inside
Gregor's cavernous warehouse were rows and rows of cutting edge
tech, most of it somewhat illegal or at least highly dubious.
Glowing Comp terminals lined one wall, where you could flash all
sorts of custom software onto your personal Comp or access
various restricted databases under the cover of anonymity.
Assistant drones projected product details in front of interested
customers, while the deactivated drones sat on a shelf behind the
counter at the back, available for purchase at a steep price. We
wandered in amongst the scattered individuals browsing wares.
There were very few parties of more than two, as the nature of
the business here discouraged unnecessary social interaction. Off
to the side of the sales counter was a heavy steel door, Gregor's
custom humanoid drone serving as bouncer for the private section
of the emporium. Jimmy and I approached casually.

"Hey Ay-Bee, what's been happening?" I asked cheerfully.

"Please state your name and business," the drone uttered
emotionlessly.

"Derek Kwei and Jimmy Lauman, here to see ol' Gregor," I
announced.

A-B was little more than a simple piece of authorization software
wrapped in an old drone body, but it fit the atmosphere of the
shop quite well, and served to dissuade troublemakers once they
caught sight of the powerful mechanical arms A-B sported. The
drone stepped aside, and the steel door slid away to reveal a
beige hallway of cracked and peeling paint.

"Welcome Derek and Jimmy. Gregor will see you now," intoned the
mechanical man.

We stepped through the doorway and it whispered shut behind us.
Light and sound blasted from a doorway to our right, but Jimmy
and I ignored it and strode down to the end of the hall and up
the creaking stairwell. The second floor was a large open space
divided by shimmering black curtains. It sort of resembled a
hospital wing, with beds and blinking medical displays visible in
the open compartments, though the emphasis on black lent it an
almost morgue-like air. A few of the beds were occupied, and from
behind closed curtains the sounds of various implements hummed
and buzzed in earnest concert. Women and men clad in silky black
bodysuits bustled in and out of the compartments, some carrying
trays of food, some lugging large boxes or assisting clients in
getting accustomed to their new states. This was the most illegal
segment of Gregor's business: human augmentation. The law
strictly limited augmentations to those with the valid reasons
and the appropriate licenses, such as the disabled, or those
working in the heavy labour industries. However, that did little
to curb the overwhelming desire to achieve super-human strength,
and Gregor's emporium was one of the few currently active
parlours where - for an absurdly high cost - people could have a
mechanical arm grafted to their body, or replace their skin with
a far more resilient nano-machine compound. More extravagant
options were available, though augmentation was not abundant
enough legally to allow for a person with wheels instead of legs
to pass unnoticed in the street. This didn't stop everyone, but
those procedures were still a rarity.

I spied Gregor standing over one of the beds to my left, his
broad shoulders and ample stomach accentuated by his tight brown
jacket, and tapped Jimmy on the shoulder before setting off down
the aisle of cubicles. As we drew within earshot, I heard Gregor
reciting a list of complications that could arise from the
procedure that the prone man was about to undergo.

"-and you have to keep washing it every single day or
you risk spreading infection. Your partner not be too happy about
that, now would she?" Gregor chided.